Staying True
by SplendoredThing
Summary: What if Christian was married before he went to Montmartre?
1. Moving On

".A love that will live forever. The end." After typing those last few words, Christian relaxed in his chair and stared at the paper. He had told their story and now there was nothing to do. Absinthe had been his companion for the cruel months after Satine's death, but he had weaned himself off of it for the time that he was writing their tale of true love. What could he possible do to occupy his thoughts?  
  
Shaking his head, he began to write a letter to his father, informing him that he was ready to come back home. The letters just seemed to flow onto the paper, as if they had been waiting to form those words forever. Christian was going home, but he did not know to what. Would his family still accept him? Would he be able to come home at all? When the letter was finished, it was sent and Christian fell asleep thinking about the past, present, and future.  
  
Christian awoke to the sound of someone loudly knocking on his door. "Your rent was due yesterday, you lazy bum. Pay up." Shouted his angry landlady. Christian stumbled out of bed and grabbed a metal box. He opened it, scooped up some bills and coins, and handed it to the loud woman. Sleepily, he grasped his pocket watch and peered at the date and time. He had been asleep for three days! He changed his shirt and stumbled down to the café for some coffee.  
  
The café was bathed in the beautiful mid-spring sunlight and a local musician was strumming a sad song on his guitar in front of the establishment. Inside, the walls were covered with alcohol advertisements and posters from the shows at the local moulins. One of those posters was for "Spectacular, Spectacular!" with Satine in her Hindi costume. The poster was a bit faded and was torn in places, but it still made Christian sigh longingly.  
  
"Coffee, please." Christian said as he took a seat at a rusted metal table and handed some money to the waitress. He sat there, staring at the poster of Satine, when the light conversation from neighboring tables was interrupted by a booming laugh. A noticeable drunk Harold Zidler strolled into the café with a girl on each arm. Cups of coffee were brought immediately and Christian looked away. He tried to drink his coffee as fast as he could, but just as he was getting up to leave, Harold noticed him and called him over.  
  
"Christian, is that you?" Harold asked with a lilt in his voice. He motioned for Christian to join them, and Christian reluctantly took a seat. "It's been a while, hasn't it boy? What have you been up to lately?" Harold asked while sipping his coffee. "Nothing really. I've been writing, but nothing too amazing. I'm just trying to move on." Christian said quietly. "I understand completely, Christian. I, myself, have been trying to move on. I'm commuting to Paris every few days to help out with the shows there," Harold replied, "You should join me, Christian. There are several places looking for talent like you." "No thank you, Harold. I'm going back to London." Christian answered quickly. "London?! What's so important in London? You're meant to be here, Christian!" Harold asked loudly. "What's so important? I have a life back in London, Harold. My life I had here in Montmartre ended when she died." Christian replied, pointing to the poster of Satine. "Goodbye, Harold." Christian stated as he left the table with tears in his eyes.  
  
When he returned home, Christian looked around his shabby apartment. Empty bottles were strewn about with yellowed papers and dirty clothes. The candles on his shrine to Satine were nothing but pools of wax and the pictures were torn at the edges. Christian angrily began to clean his apartment and pack up his belongings, even though he didn't know if his father would accept him back at home. Before long, the floor was clean, his typewriter was boxed up, and everything that reminded him of Satine was wrapped up carefully. Christian fell asleep exhausted and didn't care when he woke up.  
  
After a few days, a gentle knocking on his door woke Christian up this time, and he opened it to see Toulouse standing there. The two friends joyfully hugged and Toulouse comforted Christian. "Before I forget, this was accidentally delivered to me." Toulouse said, handing over a crisp white envelope with his father's monogram stamped on the back. Christian tore open the envelope to see a train ticket, a boat ticket, some money, and a letter. Toulouse looked confused as Christian read the letter and Toulouse examined the tickets. "Christian, are you leaving?" he asked quietly. Christian was silent as he set the letter down and stared into space. "Christian.?" Toulouse questioned with concern. Christian stuttered and quietly said, "I can't believe it." "Believe what? What's going on?" Toulouse asked. Christian shook his head and announced, "I can't believe that I'm a father." 


	2. A Past Not Forgotten

"Christian has finally come to his senses and he's coming home, Catharine." Proclaimed the weathered William James. "What?" Catharine responded with a puzzled expression, "Are you certain?" "Yes, dear. My son, your husband, is coming back home at last. It took him long enough, don't you think?" the old man responded. Catharine sighed and whined, "I hope he brought me something from Paris. He knows that I've never been there."  
  
Christian and Catharine were married in September of 1898 in an arranged situation. Christian was horribly depressed when they were married, while Catharine found it as a blessing. After all, Christian was the eldest child of the affluent William James, meaning that Christian would be well off when "the old bag" died, as Catharine put it.  
  
There was no love in their marriage, even though there was effort put into it. Even though he knew it would cause a scandal and that he would probably not be allowed to return home, Christian left his house and his wife in the care of his father while he went to Montmartre to write about truth, beauty, freedom, and love.  
  
His father had warned him, "You'll end up wasting your life at the Moulin Rouge with a can-can dancer!" His wife had begged him, "You can't leave, Christian! I'll never be able to show my face in polite society!" But Christian didn't listen to them and he went ahead with his plans.  
  
About a month before Christian left, he slept with Catharine, but only to make her stop pestering him. He still didn't love her, and he had no way of knowing that on the day that he left, the doctor was visiting his wife to check and see if she was pregnant. She was, and Oliver James was born in January of 1900.  
  
The months after Oliver was born were the hardest. Dozens of aristocratic ladies visited the house to see the new baby and questioned Christian's whereabouts. The only thing that Catharine could tell them was that he was in France on business. The ladies shook their heads in disapproval and whispered to each other on their way out the door.  
  
"Business in France? What a lie! We've all heard the rumors. He's in Montmartre!" Lady Anderson whispered. "Montmartre? Why, Lady Anderson, are you certain?" Lady Graham gasped. "Yes, dear. He's been sleeping around with can-can dancers the entire time that Oliver has been alive." Lady Anderson replied. "Well I heard that when Catharine told him that she was pregnant, he got so upset that he left and refused to return." Lady Martin added. "He was such a charming young man. What could have happened to him? How could he have left a pregnant woman to have sinful affairs with prostitutes in Paris?" Lady Graham questioned out loud. "I feel so sorry for poor Catharine. She has to raise that boy up all alone without a proper husband. If Christian every returns, I can only imagine what will happen." Lady Stevens rang in. "You're right, Lady Stevens. Poor Catharine." Replied all of the ladies.  
  
That was what life was like for Catharine and Oliver while Christian was gone. A life filled with gossip, scandal, and pity.  
  
Meanwhile, back in Montmartre:  
  
"You're a father? That can't be possible?" Toulouse asked with a confused look on his face. "I can't believe it either, Toulouse, but it is possible. Catharine must have been pregnant when I left London." Christian said, looking at the letter. "Who is Catharine?" Toulouse asked. With a sigh, Christian told Toulouse the story of their arranged and unhappy marriage and how he had left London to pursue his dream of becoming a writer.  
  
"I never dreamed that my life in Montmartre turn out the way it did." Christian said at the end of the story, "Satine would have never had to lie to everyone and she would have lived longer if I had never came." "Don't say that! She's dead, Christian. We all miss her, especially you, but you've got to move on. Your time here was a learning experience. When you move back to London, you have to remember everything that you learned here." Toulouse shouted.  
  
"What are you talking about? I learned nothing but heartache and loss." Christian sobbed. "You learned about truth, beauty, freedom, and love. When you go back to London, you can be the Christian that is true to himself and who lives each day to the fullest." Toulouse replied softly.  
  
Toulouse left after that, but not before giving Christian the Toulouse- Lautrec residence address. "If you send a letter there, my mother will make sure that I get it." Toulouse added as he walked out of the door. 


	3. A Promise

Author's Note: I had an idea for this chapter and I ran with it. Granted, I was listening to disco music as I wrote this, so it might be a little bit weird. Bear with me, folks. Also, is there countryside in London? If not, pretend that there is one. I don't know from experience.  
  
The apartment was now empty, with the exception of a musty, red-velvet covered chair and a rusty bed frame and lumpy mattress. With a long sigh, Christian picked up his two suitcases and typewriter carrier and walked out of the building. His eyes burned with tears as he walked down the street towards the train station and passed the gigantic red windmill to his right. With a shudder, Christian whispered "Goodbye, Satine."  
  
Later, on the train, Christian sipped glass of red wine as he stared out of the window at the scenery running by. Shaking his head, he finished his wine and hoped to get some peaceful sleep as he walked back to his compartment.  
  
Meanwhile, in London, Catharine was sitting on private balcony at the mansion that she and Christian owned, gazing at the sunset and remembering the day's events. After breakfast, she had an exhausting day in town looking at hats, gloves, and fabric for new dresses. She met Lady Anderson for tea and then came back home and visited with other society ladies over dinner. They knew that Christian was returning home, and they were inviting the "happy" couple to numerous social events and formal balls, two of the things that made Catharine happy.  
  
With a frown, Catharine stared at her wedding and engagement rings. They were both heavily decorated but they didn't have any sentimental value to her. Her husband had left her for another country and she knew that he probably would not want to see her anymore. Without his connections, Catharine worried that she would go back to being poor. Well, poorer than she was before marrying into the James family. Her last name granted her access into the inner circles of society. If she were to lose her last name, she would lose her position. Shaking her head, she retired for the evening.  
  
Christian awoke with tears running down his face. Looking around him, he knew that he was still on the train, and he relaxed to a point. He had just woken up from a disturbing dream. After the performance of "Spectacular, Spectacular!" and he was embracing Satine, the Duke crept up behind them and shot them both.  
  
"It was only a dream. It was only a dream." He mumbled to himself as he closed his eyes again.  
  
The next morning, Christian awoke to the conductor announcing his stop. Christian dressed quickly and gathered his things so that he could get off the train as quickly as possible. He was in no hurry to return home to Catharine, but he wanted to get away from France and the memories of Montmartre. The train came to a halt, and Christian prepared himself for the boat trip across the Channel.  
  
Author's Note: I've never been on a boat trip or a cruise, so I can't really write about that, so I'm gonna jump ahead a little bit. Deal with it.  
  
*Later, in London*  
  
Christian tipped his carriage driver and as the horses pulled away, Christian stared up at the stone mansion in front of him. With a gulp, he walked up the paved walkway towards the house and knocked on the door. A butler with graying hair opened the door and greeted him.  
  
"Ah, Mister James. Welcome home. May I take your things?" he asked kindly, motioning for the bags.  
  
Christian handed them over and told the man that he was going to look around the house before going in. The butler nodded and closed the door. Quietly, Christian walked around, looking at the rose bushes, blossoming fruit trees, and ivy-covered walls. Walking to the back of the house, Christian noticed that it had been changed dramatically. The plot of grass and two trees had changed into a stone patio with a table and chairs, potted plants, and a fountain. Beyond that, the hill that led down to a quiet steam had stone steps leading down to a cleared area near the stream that had a few rose bushes, a willow tree, and a bench.  
  
With a pleasant sigh, Christian took a seat on the bench and listened to the water run over the rocks. It was so peaceful that Christian didn't notice a thin and elegantly dressed woman approach him with a smiling baby in her arms.  
  
"I wondered when you would get back, Christian." The woman said in her snobby voice.  
  
"Hello Catharine," Christian replied in surprise, "How are you doing?"  
  
"I'm fine, thank you. What on earth are you wearing? Is it some kind of new fashion over in Paris?" Catharine said, looking at Christian's attire as if it was diseased.  
  
"Not really. When you have virtually no money, you can't really afford to take good care of your clothes." Christian replied with a smirk.  
  
Catharine sighed disapprovingly, "You could have written and asked for money. Lord knows that you have the resources."  
  
Standing up, Christian looked at Catharine, "While that may be true, that wasn't going to help me accomplish my dream of being a penniless writer and learning about life.  
  
"I can't stand to see you angry, Christian dear. Why don't you say hello to your son Oliver?" Catharine said quickly as she handed the baby over to him.  
  
"Oliver?" Christian said quietly as he stared at the infant in his arms. The baby boy smiled innocently and looked up at Christian. His eyes were a rich hazel color and his hair was the same color as Christian's. He looked so adorable.  
  
In the meantime, Catharine had taken a seat on the bench and was smoothing out her skirt. Christian sat next to her. After a few moments, Christian broke the silence.  
  
"Look, Catharine. I'm sorry for leaving you. If I had known that you were pregnant I would have never left. How have you been managing?" he asked with concern.  
  
Catharine whined in reply with mock tears streaming down her face, "It's been horrible! There have been so many rumors about us and I can't go out in public without being asked a million questions that I don't know how to answer. Do you know how hard it is to be a proper lady without a husband? It's a good thing you came back before people stopped associating with me."  
  
A gentle June breeze swept over the steam and Christian thought about how Toulouse told him to move on. With a nod, Christian knew he was about to do the right thing.  
  
"I know that I haven't always been the best husband, but I promise that I will try as hard as I can now that I'm home. No more running off to Paris to live as a poor writer. I promise." He said, looking at Catharine.  
  
"As long as you promise." Catharine replied quietly as she thought about the lavish parties and balls she could now attend and the things she could buy now that her source of income had returned. She smiled sourly at Christian before kissing his cheek and standing up.  
  
"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to freshen up." She called out as she walked up the hill. As she passed one of the maids, she said with a smirk, "Colette, tell Roger that I'll be going shopping first thing tomorrow morning. I've been waiting too long to spend real money."  
  
To be continued. 


	4. Steel and Granite Reminders

Christian sat with baby Oliver in his arms, gazing quietly at the babbling brook. With a sigh, his gaze wandered over to a delicate red rose. He plucked the rose off of the bush and threw it into the water.

"Wherever you are, Satine, I hope that you're happy." He said to himself.

He collected himself and walked towards the house with a heavy heart.

Meanwhile, across the waves of the Atlantic Ocean, an elegantly dressed woman was boarding a boat heading for Europe. She seemed to glide up the ramp and into the first-class deck.

Leaning towards the steward, she whispered, "The name is 'Baker', Amelia Baker. I'd prefer if my name weren't said out loud."

The steward nodded and personally escorted her to her stateroom. It had been a while since Amelia had been on a boat, but she was excited to return to her home continent. With a peaceful smile, she relaxed on her bed and thought back to her younger years.

Back in London, Catharine was busy snooping in Christian's bags. She found the normal items, such as pants and a few pairs of dirty socks. With a pout of disappointment, she turned her attention to the other bag. Unknown to her, it contained personal letters and pictures of Satine among other things. As she unzipped the bag, the door to the room opened and in rushed Christian.

"What do you think you're doing?" He shouted angrily.

"I was just helping you unpack, Darling." Catharine replied, standing up straight and facing him.

"I think that I can manage to unpack by myself." Christian said with impatience in his voice.

Catharine put on a fake smile. The same smile that she wore to her wedding and in front of society.

"I just thought that, since you just got back, you would want someone else to get your bags for you." She cooed.

Christian ushered her out of the room without another word and locked the door behind her. He quickly unpacked the dirty laundry bag and pulled the other bag towards him. Pain soared through his body as he ran his fingers against the gilded frames and delicate papers. Satine's beautiful face smiled at him in one picture. In another, her eyes looked off into the distance.

"It's too bad that they couldn't capture her sparkling blue eyes." Christian said to himself.

The tears fell as Christian's body slumped into a nearby leather chair. The pictures were scattered around him as he remembered the colors that belonged in the pictures.

He quietly whispered, "Here I go again. I promised myself I wouldn't think of you today."

He sighed, the words becoming harder to say.

"It's been seven months and counting. You've moved on. I still feel exactly the same."

Moving towards the window, he looked out to see the distant skyline of London. His melodic voice filled the room: "It's just that everywhere I go all the buildings know your name, like photographs and memories of love."

"Steel and granite reminders, the city calls your name and I can't move on."

Amelia Baker could only imagine the skyline of London as the boat drifted further into the sea. She was looking forward to going back to the old neighborhood and meeting up with her old friends.

Would they remember her or would there be a new girl on the block?

Would the memories be as sparkling as diamonds?

To be continued...

Credit to: Savage Garden's "The Lover After Me"


	5. Born Again

Amelia had never liked winter. The falling snow reminded her that she needed to start over again. She left her home in the middle of January, the snow falling heavily as she boarded a train towards her future. As the scenery flew by, she kept reminding herself, "I need to do this. It's the only way..."

Her life was falling apart before her very eyes, and the only way to fix things was to get away and be born again. She made the arrangements months in advance and on her last night at home, she faked her death in front of her friends and family. Her most faithful companion carried her limp body to a secluded room where her luggage and tickets waited for her. She picked up a picture of her one and only true love and kissed it softly. Whispering, "I love you," she thanked her friend and exited out of the nearby door.

She spent the night in the train station, dreaming of a comfortable bed and a better life waiting for her. The train ride took her to Calais, France. During the entire trip, she remained in her room, afraid that she would be discovered. On the coast, she caught a boat that landed in New York, America several days later. Stepping off of the boat, she drank in the sights and sounds of her new home.

A voice behind her caught her by surprise, "Darling, you finally made it. Is everything taken care of back at home?"

Spinning around, she caught sight of Mr. Simon Grant, the famous Vaudeville talent scout. Her eyes softened at the sight of the friendly face as he led her to her hotel.

After that, her life was filled with the thrills of Vaudeville. She was known as "Beauty Baker" and was a sensation. She traveled all over America and soon became one of the most sought-after actresses. It was at the height of her popularity that she decided to go back home.

"But Baby, your fans are here. What could possibly be waiting for you over there?" Simon argued.

Amelia held up a letter and waved it in Simon's face.

"I can't explain it, but I _need_ to go back. Someone needs me." Amelia retorted.

"But I need you!" Simon whined as Amelia walked out the door.

Now she was on her way back to Europe. Her first stop, though, was in London. There was someone there who she needed to tell the truth to.


	6. Memories

Over the smooth waters of the Atlantic, Amelia relaxed in her stateroom. The view was fantastic, but she didn't feel like exposing herself to the public. There were far too many people who knew her and she didn't want to risk getting mobbed by fans. Her life had always been like that, but it still fascinated her.

With a sigh, she crossed the room to examine the largest of her trunks. Wherever she went, Amelia brought the trunk with her. It contained everything that she took from her original home. It hadn't been opened for months and the lid stuck for a moment as Amelia opened it up. She brushed her hand over the layers of luxurious fabric and picked up a red satin dress to examine it.

She held the dress close to her and closed her eyes, remembering how she could stop traffic in that dress. She was quite the smoldering temptress when she wore that little number. She laughed and placed the dress carefully back into the trunk. Just as she was closing the trunk, a glimmer of light caught her eye. Reaching back into the aged trunk, she retrieved a stunning diamond necklace.

"I forgot that I even had this." She said to herself, closely examining the necklace.

A few nights before she left, she had an argument with her employer. He was a greedy man who didn't want Amelia to live on her own terms. She was in the process of packing when he burst into her room.

"Forgive the intrusion, Cherub." He said, catching her off guard as she dropped the necklace into her bag.

"You're wasting your time." She replied, throwing on a robe.

"Poppet, you don't understand..." He began, but she quickly tuned him out.

"I don't need you anymore!" She screamed, "All my life you made me believe I was only worth what someone would pay for me!"

She turned and headed for the door, only to be stopped by a few quick words from her employer. She begrudgingly agreed to stay, but was still plotting her escape, which happened a few days later.

Tears ran down Amelia's face as she remembered those last days. It was behind her, but the memories haunted her. She put the necklace down and reached for a yellowed piece of paper. Skimming past the legal phrases, she looked upon the lie that had helped her move on...

"Henceforth, all documents will bear the name of 'Amelia Baker'. I give up the name written below and accept 'Amelia Baker' as my legal name. Signed, Satine Noir."


	7. Suffocating

Christian stared into the full-length mirror in front of him and carefully attached his cufflinks to his jacket. He hadn't worn a suit since he lived in Montmartre, and he felt suffocated in the crisp white shirt and black-as-death jacket.

"You can go through with this, Christian." He told himself, straightening his posture and looking squarely at his reflection.

At that moment, Catharine stormed into Christian's dressing room. What parts of her body that weren't draped in the latest style were dripping with jewels or covered in makeup. The overpowering perfume haze around her reached Christian's nostrils before Catharine was even close to him.

"We're going to be late! Why isn't your bow tie on yet?" She screamed, reaching for the black fabric lying on the chair near Christian.

She worked on the bow tie while clicking her tongue and sighing, "Please don't make a fool of me tonight. It's been a long time since I've been able to show my face in polite society."

When the tie had been fastened, Christian spun around and looked Catharine in her cold, unfeeling eyes and said clearly, "I am only going because of you. It is the last place that I want to go. But if going to a grand ball dressed like this is going to make you happy, then so be it."

Enraged, Catharine waved Christian off and sped out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Christian sighed and looked in the mirror one last time before following Catharine out of the house.

When Christian and Catharine entered the ballroom, the crowd's loud murmuring halted abruptly. All eyes were on them, judging every step and every breath. Catharine's poised appearance and heavily garnished figure blended in perfectly, but Christian's slightly disheveled look stood out. Christian's eyes darted around the room, looking for the nearest exit or at least a bar. Finding neither, he looked at the elegant creature attached to his arm and smiled uneasily.

To his rescue, the host and hostess approached them and welcomed them to the celebration. After the introductions, the room was a bustle again, and Christian was able to leave Catharine at the table while he quickly downed a glass of scotch.

The night progressed slowly, and Christian felt more and more strangled in his suit and tie. Catharine had threatened him the night before that he was to be the picture of perfection and that he was not allowed to discuss his "business affairs" in Paris. He was slumped in his chair next to Catharine, who was gossiping with her friends. The party was winding down, and Christian politely suggested that they go home.

"Dearest, I think it's best that we call it a night." He whispered in her ear, rising from the table.

Catharine looked at him crossly and replied, "You want to leave already? What's wrong, is there no Absinthe to drink? No can-can dancers to fool around with?"

Noticeably hurt, Christian pulled Catharine from the table and apologized to the rest of the group, "Excuse us. It was a pleasure to see you all again, but we _do_ have a baby to get home to."

The ride home was silent, but when the couple exited the vehicle, Catharine spun around and slapped Christian.

"How dare you insult me like that!" she screamed.

"What do you mean? You're the one who insulted me!" Christian yelled back, his face as red as Satine's boudoir in Montmartre.

Catharine hiccuped, the many glasses of champagne disagreeing with her, "I'm not going to argue with you. You've ruined everything!"

She ran inside and Christian walked slowly behind her. While she spent the rest of her evening performing her "beautifying" techniques, he locked the door to his study and poured over the pictures of Satine.

A lone tear rolled down his cheek as his fingers brushed against a handful of pink feathers.  
"I miss your love, I miss your touch. But I'm feeling you every day."

Rummaging through the box, he ran across a rough draft of "Spectacular, Spectacular!".  
"And I can almost hear you say, 'You've come a long way baby.'"

Flipping through the pages, his eyes settled on the Hindu wedding scene.  
"You taught me kings and queens while stroking my hair."

He put the items back in the box and turned off the light. Walking out of the room, he whispered, "In my darkest hour, I know you are there."

To be continued….

Song credits: "Nan's Song" by Robbie Williams


	8. Phoenix Emerging

As the ship neared closer to England's coast, Amelia worried more and more about her pending reunion. Would she be accepted? Would she be recognized? Would he feel the same way? She sat on the private balcony adjacent to her suite, carefully studying the letter that had beckoned her to return home…

Dearest Amelia,  
I know that we agreed before you left not to communicate, but I fear that I must break the silence. I have watched over Christian since you parted from our company, hoping that he would indeed move on and live the ideals of a Bohemian lifestyle. Instead, he has returned to London, where it turns out that he has a wife and small child waiting for him. His father, many years ago, had arranged a marriage for Christian. It was a marriage of convenience, since both Christian and his wife came from good families. Christian's duties were to his family, but his heart was telling him that there was more to learn. That is why he ventured to Paris. Now he is gone and I fear that he will lose the ideals of truth, beauty, freedom, and love. I don't know if there is anything that you can do, but you need to seek him out.  
Your friend, Toulouse

With a sigh, Amelia folded the letter and placed it in her purse once more. The salty ocean air wafted across her face, and she leapt up from her seat to look at the beautiful sea that stretched out in front of her. In her wildest dreams, she had never imagined that she would see the Atlantic Ocean once, let alone twice. She had accomplished so much in just a few short months. She lived on her own terms and experienced freedom. Was she willing to turn her back on it?

Amelia walked back into her suite and reached for her legal papers. With a quivering hand, she tore up her name-change papers and tossed them into the fireplace. The embers glowed a sensual red-orange color as Amelia disappeared into her dressing room.

Minutes later, she emerged in a sultry red outfit, her fiery-red waves tumbling about. The phoenix had been born again. Satine was alive once more.


	9. The Meeting Part I

Author's Note: I'm back! Yeah, it's been a long time, but after writer's block and actually experiencing love and loss, I'm back. Enjoy! Also, I forget what month I'm placing this story in, so I'll just go with late summer.

A Week Later

The mountain of papers covering Christian's desk seemed insurmountable. As soon as one was looked over, another one seemed to appear out of thin air. Removing his spectacles, Christian rubbed his weary eyes and stole a glance at the clock on the wall. He'd been working non-stop for the past five hours, and the afternoon sun peaked happily through a break in the heavy velvet curtains of his study. He spent most of his time in this room, mostly to escape his wife, but also to lose himself in the life he left behind. He often found himself sifting through the box that contained his most treasured items from his stint in Paris.  
Christian's gaze slowly drifted over to the safe that contained the box of memories to which only he held the key to. Reaching into his pocket, he began to withdraw the key from it when a loud bang on the study door straightened his posture and forced him to get up.

One of the new housemaids, a petite young thing, was standing on the other side, and her face burned with embarrassment when Christian abruptly opened the door. With a curtsey and a mumble of "Excuse me sir, this is for you," she handed him an envelope and then walked away. Turning the envelope in his hand, Christian closed the door, locked it, and tossed the envelope on a nearby chair, telling himself that it was another bill and he'd get to it later.

Shaking his head, Christian removed the key to the safe from his pocket, took a deep breath, and stared at it. He had been cooped up in this room for too long without a break, and although he wanted nothing more than to dive into the world of feathers, sequins, and his true love, he convinced himself that fresh air was most important at that time. Shoving the key back into his pocket, he grabbed his hat off of the corner of his desk and headed for the expansive yard behind his house.

Meanwhile, somewhere not too far away…

Satine's carriage pulled up to a posh hotel in the heart of London, and she exited swiftly and stood in awe of the city. Her last visit to the city had been short, a short stop between France and New York City, and before any of the pedestrians walking by could recognize her internationally famous face, she floated into the hotel and was in her room before too long.  
Unpacking, her hand brushed against a blank sheet of parchment paper, sending her back to just days before when she had written what was the hardest letter of her life. Every step from her stateroom to the telegraph station on the ship felt heavier than the last, but once the task was over with, all she could do was wait.

Sitting on her bed and brushing out her luscious red curls, Satine breathed deeply and peaked at her suitcase that contained the outfit she would wear that day. It was simple enough – a rich blue dress that accentuated her curves and complimented her hair and eyes, but she could only hope it would serve its purpose of making her upcoming meeting one that neither party would ever forget. Rising from the bed, she began to change, and not long after was down in the lobby, waiting for her transportation to the cafe where her telegraph had indicated she would be at for the remainder of the day. Heaviness in her heart, she gazed longingly out of the lobby window, hoping that the message had been delivered.

Arms outstretched and his eyes closed, Christian stepped out into the welcome sunlight and breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of the blossoming flowers in the garden. It had been far too long since he had truly appreciated the sunlight, and he had not acknowledged it since the death of his beloved. Shuddering, he thought back to the numerous times the sunlight would pour into his room as he held Satine in his arms, stroking her porcelain skin and kissing her forehead and never wanting to let go. A tear rolled down his cheek, rivers of fiery pain ran through his veins, and he turned back to go into the house. With a sigh, he locked himself in his study and retrieved the envelope he had discarded not too long ago. Opening it, he gasped but continued to read every word.

"My dearest Christian, it has been far too long that you have gone without knowing the truth. I'm not trying to trick you or anything. I promised to love you until my dying day, and since that time has not come yet, I am sticking to that promise. If you would meet me at the Tudor Café on August 12, I will be there all day waiting to tell you the truth. Yours truly, Satine."

Back at the café, Satine sat in the middle of the room, quietly sipping a cup of tea and watching the other patrons. She was willing to wait a lifetime for him, and was ready to explain her world to him…  
"Maybe I've been away too long," she thought to herself, "I know I'm not always right but that's wrong."  
Sighing, she stirred her tea and took another sip. "They say there's nothing I can do, but talk to strangers and wait for you."

… To be Continued

Song credits: "Please Don't Die" by Robbie Williams


End file.
